Peaking and Grieving

What a strange combination of events--here I am in my most difficult training week of my life, and my mom has died. The funeral is Friday. Can I, should I keep up my training? Hell yes, it's what mom would have wanted, and it's what dad has insisted upon. I seem to have been given extra energy care of my mom.

Yesterday I did 1:35 on the trainer (it was only 32 here, if you can believe that), and then ran :35 on the treadmill. I had watts galore on the bike, and while their generation didn't feel effortless, I think I could have kept churning them out in spurts. When I got on the treadmill, my heart rate was nice and low, and I warmed up for 5 minutes and my legs felt weightless. How could that be? I just drilled myself on the bike; running should not feel this good. But it did, so I kept increasing the speed. My legs felt almost like they weren't there; there was no pain, almost no sensation, so I had to look down and check that I was, in fact, running. I wanted, needed effort. I should not feel so good with the weight that is on me now. Yet, I was floating. I just went with it, and at the same time I choked back tears every few minutes. No crying while running! Perhaps it was my body shifting its negative energy just to my mind, leaving my legs free to do their muscular thing, which by now require almost no thought at all to do their thing.

But, once I stopped running (and it's very hard for me mentally when I get to the end of a workout now because the floodgates open), and I wanted to collapse in a heap on the floor, I didn't. I forced myself to go to the Y yesterday so I could face people and face myself and, well, if I lost it, so what. Once I began to stretch, every muscle (and I am quite attuned to them all) in my legs would cramp. I don't know if it was because it was 5PM and I hadn't eaten since 10AM or what. It was just an interesting sensory combination to have had weightless, floating legs, followed by cramps. But I eased into the stretching and was OK.

I got home, fixed something for dinner, carbed up and thankfully got to sleep around 9PM, knowing I had to be up, get something to eat in me, and into the pool bright and early to swim 4,500 yards. My swim workout this morning wasn't by any means fast; it was an endurance session (2 sets of 3x500 with 15" rest type of stuff), and knowing that my swimming is most affected by my state of fatigue, I just settled in to get it done. I didn't feel particularly worn out, but knew I'd be swimming a little slower than I'd like, which was fine. But I had absolutely no endurance problems, and focused on my form, which felt very good to me. I ended up swimming 4,600 yards (this week in honor of mom I am swimming 50-100 yards extra each workout and every other workout I am doing 5 extra minutes), and really didn't feel too worse for the wear except I wanted to eat everything in sight.

Around 2:15 I headed out to do my tempo run. I was supposed to do a total of :55, but of course, I had decided I'd run for a full hour (this week's rules, you know), from home, meaning my rolling 6-mile course plus some more. I ended up doing almost 7 miles in an hour, which means that I pretty much ran tempo pace the entire time, although I was only supposed to do :25 worth. No worries. It felt good, I felt good, it was all good. My legs weren't floaty like they were yesterday, but what I noticed today was not so much effort in my legs but more like just in my aerobic capacity. Which is undoubtedly HUGE. I feel like a machine right about now. If I can hold this fitness and then get my taper rest in I should be not only good to go, but almost great to go for Ironman Brazil.

I have never felt this way in my life. I realized today that many of the challenges I faced this past fall were the universe's way of preparing me for this week. Not just the week of peaking; but also the week of grieving. I am taking things one day at a time. I am astounded by the level of care being expressed by friends, family, and people I don't even know on the Internet. I think everyone knows the importance of a mother. There's nothing like your mom! I think I am able to move through this fairly well because of my insane focus on mental work that I've had the past 6 months, and I suppose the physical strength helps out, too.

The other thing that comes to mind is that unlike my 2 brothers and 2 sisters, I have quite a bit of mom in me. She was a good seamstress, cook and gardener. She always joked to me about how I had to be better than she was at all these things (and most anything that I tackled she remarked how I had to be the very best at whatever I did, haha not so much at marriage, though), but also that she was very proud of me for it. I never set out to be better than her; I just set out to be the best that I could be. And I got a lot of it from her. So these most excellent spring days (and by the way, I am so happy my mom died in the springtime--the very most beautiful time of the year to me) when I'm out poking around in my flower beds, sure I am sad that mom won't see the new things coming up this season, but I have plants that were cuttings from hers, I have the green thumb she had (not for indoor plants, please, I will kill them all!) and most of all, I have the same attitude towards it that she had, which is that the garden is a place of comfort and solace. If something's bugging you, go pull some weeds. It will help you think things through. Put your hands right into the dirt--no gloves--you will feel cleansed by the real contact with the Earth. Listen to the birds and watch the bees and other insects flitting about you. This is nature at its most accessible and pleasurable. Every day! While I don't spend as much time on my garden beds as I used to, they are there for me every single day and give me so much pleasure. At least once a day I make a point to "patrol" the premises. I look at things, pull a weed here, smell a flower there, and it is very relaxing, almost like meditation.

When I look in my closets, I see all the beautiful things I've sewed for myself over the years, and know that my mom inspired me to take up the craft. Initially it was out of necessity, since she used to make my clothes through 7th grade, but I realized she didn't have time when she began working again, so I told her one day that I needed to make myself a dress and would she take me to buy fabric and a pattern, and then would she help me if I got stuck? Well, she did, I didn't get stuck, and several months later I made my 8th grade graduation dress (very stylish--bright yellow with kelly green velvet ribbon on the bodice and wrists). And then I discovered that I liked sewing and chose progressivly more difficult things to make.

When I cook, now it's mainly for sustenance, but I can remember all that I learned by watching my mom cook and savoring whatever she fixed and asking what was in it. When I was in high school, again I sensed that my mom needed some more help in the house, and she was driving me to a job, so I thought the least I could do was cook dinner for the family before I went to my evening job after high school. So I fixed some of the things she taught me, I bought a few cookbooks and went nuts. Every night there was a main course, side dishes and a dessert. Needless to say, my brothers and dad were in hog heaven! But to me, it was just the right thing to do, and my secondary purpose was to acquire another skill and do it well.

So even though I break into moments of sadness over my mom's death, and I know it will continue for who knows how long, I am also spending a whole lot of time smiling about how much of her is in me and know that there's nothing for me to forget because I live it every single day.

I am thinking about singing a song at my mom's funeral. If I think I can hold it together long enough to do that, I will; if not, I will just read the words aloud. And yes, I was in the choir in junior high and high school and also accompanied the choir on the piano on some difficult pieces. So I can sing pretty decently. We shall see.

I did work today and will also do so tomorrow--sort of. I will be swimming 4,000 yards in the morning and then running 2 hours in the middle of the day. It's time for me to hit the trail run. My boss is being very good to me, so I'm sure I can finesse being gone for 3 hours in the middle of the day. It will be a beautiful, spring day. I look forward to it.